From possibilities to panic...

Saturday was one of the hardest days I've ever had. Ever.
Saturday, I experienced my first panic attack.

Back in July, I attended our Scentsy Family Reunion and while there, really felt challenged by God to start stepping beyond where I was. There were a few areas I could see clear direction in and some steps I needed to take to start the process of letting go of control. One of those was to finally attend Superstar Director Summit in Meridian, Idaho, the location of Scentsy home office.
This meant flying. I was going to have to fly.

I HATE FLYING.

Hate doesn't even seem to be the right word. It terrifies me. Even having conversations about it will put a deep pit in my stomach.
But it was time to grow. God was calling me into a new place with Him and that meant I had to do this. So when I got home and registration opened, I very quickly counted down from 5 and signed up. I didn't book my flight right away. I couldn't yet. I needed the courage to build up and then to press launch so my mind and fingers would spring into action and reserve my spot on a plane.
A couple weeks passed and as prices increased, I knew it needed to get it done. (I'm sort of a frugal gal and hate wasting money...which becomes ironic later in this story).
So I jumped on the website, booked my flight and then cried for an hour afterward. Every scary thought and feeling rushed over me in record time.
But it was done.
That was that.
I was financially committed and that would have to serve as the motivation to get past the other junk.

I spent the next few weeks spending hours reading, watching listening to all sorts of things to help me get on to that plane. I wanted to be, deeply, where it would take me, I just didn't want to have to get there and back how I would need to.
I watched YouTube videos from pilots on what noises are okay and why flying is safe.
I read statistics and stories on how to overcome the fear of flying.
I listened to books on coping skills and how to take control of thought patterns.
I tried 3 different medications to try and find something to dull my nerves. None of them worked.
I prayed.
I worshipped.
I tucked Scripture away in my heart.
I stood in my prayer closet Friday crying out to God to take this coat of heavy fear off of me because I was tired of wearing it.
I rebuked the enemy of my soul and reminded him that I wasn't his.
Friends showered me with beautiful words of encouragement.
Gifts to give me strength and courage.
All do be able to do something MILLIONS do every single day.
Just to get on that plane to go to Idaho.

Saturday morning, I left early to drive to Dallas. A 5 hour drive just so I could take a direct flight. Just one plane.
On that car ride, I prayed, worshipped and listened to yet another self help book to make sure I was packed and loaded with every possible "skill" I could need to battle any feelings that would rise up. I went through scenarios and kept reminding myself to just walk on, get in your seat, buckle up and put your brand new noise cancelling headphones in, blast that new Hillsong worship soundtrack and remember that you are safe. You are Gods. He will be right there with you until you land safely on the other side.

I arrived at my dear friend Kathy's house...in tears. A sudden moment of anxiety left my chest feeling tight and fear to swarm me again. We sat on her back porch and talked. My heart rate slowed, my body relaxed and we decided it was time that we head out. In this time I also talked to my husband and my best friend who both poured reassuring words over me. I listened and decided I just needed to go and get this over with.

Kathy dropped me off at the airport, hugged me tight and reminded me it would all be good and she'd pick me up on Thursday, anxious to hear all about it.
I went through security in what is probably a consistent fliers dream. No lines. No waiting. Walked right through...only to be patted down because I left something in my pocket as I was fumbling to load the plastic tubs with my belongings.

My gate was straight ahead of me so I walked to the window, put my ear buds in and watched plane after plane take off.
With each plane I counted how many seconds after take off the wheels would go up that way when I felt or heard that happen, I knew what it was.
After some time, I went and took a seat across from my gate. I prayed and tried to again soak up the words in the songs I had playing in my ears.

And then it began. Like some little whisper getting louder and louder in my head and right now, I can't even tell you what they were saying. I don't even remember.
Boarding time came and my heart began to race. All of the sudden, it was like a countdown had begun. 30 minutes was all that was left.
The tears began streaming. People walked by with their luggage and stared. I'm sure they were curious as to who must have died for me to be so distraught.
I called my husband frantic and from that point forward, I remember very little.
I know he was trying to say all the right things. Words of affirmation and love and encouragement. As I spiraled deeper, he became more direct and assertive to try and snap me out of it. I was hearing him, but I wasn't listening. Everything was fuzzy and dark. Cold and dark.
All of the coping skills I'd practiced- gone.
All of the scripture I'd memorized- gone.
All of the knowledge of how safe I would be-gone.
It wasn't like I was trying to be my normal control freak self and not trust God in this.
I wasn't even in control. I literally had NO control over my thoughts or my body. It was like some messed up outer body experience.
The bracelet I wore on my wrist, that was reminding me to walk with courage and no fear of the future, you know, my focus verse for this year, Proverbs 31:25?
 I literally wanted rip off in hopes it would break into a million pieces.
All I remember saying was, "I can't. I can't. I can't" over and over and over again.
My heart was physically hurting. I was sweating. I was dizzy. I couldn't breathe.
I think my husband could tell I was in distress because he was having to remind me to take breaths.
I was experiencing my very first panic attack, alone in this giant airport with people watching,  which magnified everything times a bazillion.

I've always struggled with some sort of anxiety. Sometimes it is absolutely manageable and something it's harder, but always controllable to some degree. I always assumed that anxiety and panic attacks were the same(ish).

I no longer feel that way. This was different. WAY different. This was all consuming, choking, asphyxiating fear. Of what exactly? I couldn't even tell you. I don't know, but I was drowning in it.

As they called for final boarding, I got off the phone, took a huge, deep breath and forced myself to walk up to the beautiful woman standing at the gate taking tickets. I desperately searched for one of those danged "Skills" to talk myself down that hall and onto that plane, but everything went blank. Everything overshadowed by this dark cloud engulfing me.
I looked her straight in the eye, face tear stained and said, "I can't"

and I walked away.

The closed the doors and that was that. Fear won. The enemy won...

And I lost hard.

I called my friend who swiftly returned to the airport to pick me up. I called my husband to tell him I was coming home. I hated what I heard on the other end. He was sad for me. As he described it, it was like a coach who'd lost the game. Nothing he had said gave me the strength to get on that plane and I think he felt as defeated as I. I could hear it. He wasn't disappointed in me, but he was disappointed for me.

I spent the evening on the back porch with my friend. We talked about life, went to Walmart for snacks and ate pizza while watching Dick Van Dyke tell about being a part of Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I think she knew it would me medicine for my soul. She was right.

I went to bed and wrestled with the day. Replaying what I could remember trying to figure out what went wrong. What was the turning point where I felt prepared, read up, praying up and ready to an ugly, wicked panic attack. I still don't know.

The next day, yesterday, I woke up feeling like my body had been in a car wreck. Every muscle aching and sore. My neck stiff and my head throbbing.  My stomach was in knots, I was nauseous and utterly depleted. I also had heartburn all danged day. All side affects of the MAJOR rush of adrenaline I'd felt the day before. The aftershocks if you will.


I made the 5 hour drive home, tired, weepy, and anxious for rest. My sweet girls welcomed me back with a sign on the door and precious hugs. My husband, ready to deal with whatever was left of me.
He quickly encouraged me to lie down and rest, for which I was grateful.

Oh how I wish I could have been the people who walked on to that plane like it was nothing, like the momma with her little baby, who wasn't worried a bit about whether she'd land in Idaho 3 hours later. Oh I wish my body and mind wouldn't have betrayed me so.
That's what I feel like right now. Like I've betrayed myself.
And that I've also let down every single cheerleader who was rooting me on. Like I took one step forward, trying to be brave, and tumbled down the rabbit hole, 100 steps back.
My heart aches. I'm constantly teary and I am mourning what this week could have been.
I wanted to be with my friends, I wanted to discover a new place and I wanted, most of all, to overcome this stupid, stupid fear.
But it won. It won big.

This time anyway.


So today, I've sat here in a place that feels so heavy. My body still recovering, my heart so sad and my brain so tired that I'm still having trouble thinking clearly.
 I don't want to give it the power by calling it depression, but it feels a whole lot like that.

I've cried out to my God, who is so unfailing and filled with so much love for me, asking why this happened. Why didn't all that preparation matter? Why didn't all those prayers work? Why did this darkness so easily envelope me when I had worked SO, SO, SO freaking hard to be ready? WHY DIDN'T IT WORK??????????????

I sit waiting for His answer. I know it will come. When? I don't know, but I hope soon.

I don't know where I go from here. If you're one of those people who loves flying or at least manages it ok, I applaud you. Truly. I wish I had your courage. I stand in awe of it.
I don't know when I'll try again, but I hope to someday. I hope this has not left a stain that cannot be washed away from my memory so that one day, I can do it again...and succeed.

For now, I wait to hear from God. I wait for clarity and I wait for this heavy weight of disappointment to fall from my shoulders. I'll take today to take care of my body and then will go back into motion again tomorrow running my business and taking care of my family.

There is no moral to this story and I am sorry if you were waiting, ready through line after line waiting for one. No "But then this happened..." shift in the narrative. I just needed all of these thoughts and words and feelings out of me. I needed to share it. I needed you to know so you didn't judge me for not being where I should be today.

There is no redeeming, full circle moment...YET

YET.

YET.

I'm just not there...YET.

Yet means there is possibility. So for today, I hold on to the YET.